


Make a Wish

by Lukas17



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6973396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lukas17/pseuds/Lukas17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fountain outside the store was chipped and old, but Hartley still tossed his coins in anyway.</p>
<p>Hartmon Week: Earth-2</p>
<p>*Un-betaed</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make a Wish

Every day Hartley would leave his home for forty-four minutes.

He'd lock his door and walk down the street towards a nearby store. It was a deli sandwich for lunch, some microwave meal for dinner, and he'd pick up a bagel for breakfast the next day. Five minutes at the fountain, throwing his change at the statue in the middle and make a wish when the coins hit the water. Then he'd return home and spend the next hour and a half eating the sandwich while focusing on his masterpieces.

His masterpieces were half play half work, with a order list longer than his arm. He'd never seen the end of the list. For every order completed another was added, and he worked on it just like he worked on the others. Every step of the process he oversaw, it was the only guarantee he could give people. With Zoom out there even the most expensive, powerful gun couldn't protect them.

Hartley typically spent all waking hours focusing on his work. There wasn't much else to focus on in his life. He only took breaks after one in the morning. The lock to his door rattled than the sound of someone inserting a key into the lock interrupted his work. Finally the door opened, and he would refuse to turn for the first few seconds. By the time he decided to go ahead with it Cisco already had his goggles off and his feet on the armrest of his couch.

Cisco was always different in his house. There was no room to be heartless here, no room for anger or lust for power. Cisco could take his shoes off, stretch, take his hair down and nap. It was a safe place Hartley gave because he still thought that they could go back to the good old days.

“Whatcha working on?” Cisco asked, and he liked to every time even though he knew better.

“I can't tell you.” He always had to say that. His customers didn't need the bad guys finding a work around before they even got their weapons.

“I could always look it up.”

“You could.” But he wouldn't. That line was just decoration. Cisco respected the boundaries if only because Hartley would make good on some threats otherwise.

“What's for dinner?” The sound of footsteps led to the kitchen, and Hartley let himself listen and pretend that this was normal. That it was six and not one in the morning. Cisco still worked for that gaming company and he was still halfway towards his PhD.

“Nothing. Do you think Italia's pizza is still open? Their hours changed.”

“They're open until two.” He said.

Cisco went quiet. There was no sound of the phone being picked up or dialed, no order placed. Hartley almost dropped his tools but a hand grabbed his wrist before he could.

“What's wrong.”

“Nothing's wrong.” He said. Cisco crouched down lower so he was eye level though Hartley kept his eyes trained on his drill.

“Something's wrong. You're an open book, and you should tell me before it just eats at you.”

Hartley bit his lip. “Why do you even ask me to tell you. You know what's wrong.”

Cisco dropped his wrist as if it was on fire. “This again,” He yelled. This was an argument had time and again. They both knew how it would go.

“Yes. This again. Why do you have to do these things huh? I can't even watch shows anymore after that stunt you pulled last month!”

“It was only on for ten minutes! It was almost over by the time they started the broadcast!”

“I can't live like this Cisco.” He threw the drill down at the ground. It broke, but he only heard it. His eyes were on Cisco.

“Do you know what he would do if I left? Do you have any idea what he's capable of? You're not an idiot Hartley!”

“He knows about us because you got greedy,” Hartley countered, “You exposed yourself and now this is where we're at! I'm scared and alone all day trying to resist him in some small way and you're his mindless little lap dog that barks at whatever he points at.”

“Fuck you!” Cisco spit those words out like they were poison. They were in some small way. Cisco had anger and disappointment at his past actions all bottled up, slowly eating at his soul like corrosive acid. When they fought he spread it and it lapped at the edges of Hartley's soul, eroding at the edges just a little bit more with each fight. They were both smooth now, like marble. Though Hartley thought they would both make pretty ugly statues.

Cisco always left after their fights. He'd shove his feet into his shoes and put on his goggles. Soon he was Reverb again, and Hartley was alone.

The only way out was death be it his, Cisco's, or Zoom's. And that next morning after getting his usual groceries he'd take his change, throw it into the fountain, and make a wish.


End file.
